Blood of the West
by elziebean1000
Summary: A Western spin of The Oath/Blood on the Scales - In the sleepy town of Colonial Falls, Sheriff William Adama must learn the demands of juggling lawlessness and a fledgling relationship.
1. Chapter 1

_This fic is largely the result of spending too much of my time listening to Brad Paisley, Dolly Parton and Alison Krauss songs. Unfortunately, I dont' own Battlestar Galactica, that honour would fall to Ronald D. Moore._

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><p>The heat was blistering. Sheriff William Adama removed his hat and swiped the back of his hand across his forehead, removing the tiny beads of sweat that had formed there. Dropping the hat onto his rickety wooden desk he paced over to the china bowl that sat in the corner of the jailhouse, the keys dangling off his belt jingling with every movement.<p>

He groaned when his knees protested as he stooped beside the bowl, picking up the jug of water that sat next to it and pouring it out. He took the once-white rag that he kept handy for times like this and dipped it into the water, wringing it out thoroughly before passing it over the nape of his neck and across his face. The water that dribbled down his neck was room temperature, but at least it was cool in comparison to the stifling heat that had taken hold over the past week.

He was surprised that the already frayed tempers of some of the townsfolk hadn't yet reached boiling point, resulting in the numerous brawls over at the Saloon that he and his deputy usually had to break up at this time of year. The abnormally calm atmosphere of Colonial Falls weighed heavily on Bill's mind, like the calm before the storm.

Bill sighed to himself and wiped his face with the damp rag again, maybe the heat was making him paranoid. Ignoring the creaking of his bones as he straightened, Bill fished his hand into the pocket of his waistcoat and pulled out his pocket-watch. He frowned as he flipped the bronze lid open and saw the time; Saul was late again.

Gritting his teeth, he slipped the watch back into his pocket and checked the revolver in the holster at his waist was loaded before collecting his hat and stepping out into the glare of the sun. He was greeted by a waft of dust as some of the local boys raced their horses through the town, he'd have to remember to talk to them about that later, but for now he had to prepare himself to step into what he considered the bowels of the earth; namely Baltar's Saloon across town.

He nodded politely to old man Black and his wife setting out their morning wares as he passed the General Store and tried to ignore the way the conversations between the small groups of people loitering around immediately quieted as he came near. He had been Sheriff long enough that he should have gotten used to the way they tended to avoid his gaze when he was around, but he never had. He tried not to let it bother him but sometimes he wished that they could see behind the badge, title and responsibilities and see the man he is when he was not keeping the peace, the man he was before he had been elected as the Sheriff of Colonial Falls.

Adjusting his hat so that it kept the brightness of the sun from dazzling him, he walked slowly through the town, keeping his eyes open for any disturbances that could use his attention. He saw nothing peculiar other than the fact that it was uncharacteristically quiet, and he found himself hoping yet again that everybody was simply taking refuge from the heat in their homesteads.

His boots clattered against rotten wood as he climbed up the three steps to the porch of the Saloon, where he removed his hat before stepping through the swinging batwing doors. He kept his face stone-like as he was yet again assaulted by a sudden dimming of noise; the grating piano music culminated with the clash of numerous notes and the jeering and laughter of people gathered at the poker tables ceased as dozens of pairs of eyes simultaneously sought out the intruder.

Bill paid it no mind, however, as his own eyes found the man he had been looking for hunched over the crude bar, fingers wrapped around at stained glass of clear liquid, which in all likelihood was the strongest moonshine on offer. Fingering the brim of his hat, Bill strolled over to his deputy and glared at the woman trying to crawl into his lap until she slinked away with a swish of her tightly curled hair.

Perching himself on an unsteady stool, Bill leaned forward with his forearms on the bar and looked at his friend with sad eyes, "Little early to be starting, don't you think Saul?"

Saul Tigh shrugged absentmindedly and drained the remainder of his glass, raising it above his head to indicate for a refill, "Not if I haven't stopped." He slurred bluntly, wiping at his bloodshot eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

Bill reached up and took the empty glass out of his hand before the bartender had a chance to refill it and placed it upside-down on the bar. "You've been here all night?" he shouldn't have been surprised, it was a common occurrence that usually meant one thing; "What did she do this time?" he asked, hating that he was the one to bring it up.

He heard Saul growl low in his throat, "Disappeared with one of those young cavalry boys again." Bill sighed and looked down at the bar, he wished that his friend would find someone who would be completely loyal to him, like he had, but no matter how much his wife was a woman of questionable repute, he loved her anyway.

Deciding the best thing he could do for his friend now was to get him away from the Saloon as fast as he could, Bill stood and gently hauled Saul to his feet, steadying him when he swayed. He glared at the people watching him, satisfied when they immediately turned away in an attempt to avoid the wrath of the Sheriff, and led the grumbling deputy outside.

Stumbling down the steps, Saul shook off Bill's stabilising grasp and lumbered down the dusty street towards the jailhouse, his feet lifting small clouds of dust behind him as he went.

Knowing Saul would rather be by himself at the moment, Bill kept his distance but watched him intently as he followed him back to the little wooden sanctuary that was their jailhouse. As long as no-one was stirring up trouble today, Saul could sleep it off in one of the cell bunks without being disturbed, which was probably the best idea for everyone concerned as Saul acted like a wounded bear when he was sober.

Once he saw that his friend was settled on one of the bunks, Bill went outside again and circled to the back of the jailhouse. Pulling out his watch again he saw that it was nearing lunchtime, the perfect time to take a trip up to the schoolhouse. Grinning to himself, Bill pulled on his hat and removed his revolver to hide it in one of his saddlebags; Laura didn't like it when he carried his weapon, she often told him he was more likely to get injured that way, and he wouldn't be needing it up at the schoolhouse anyway. He saddled up his trusty steed Husker and led him out into the open before he mounted him, letting the old horse adjust to the added weight before he trotted through the town, weaving between the people and wagons moving lazily to their destinations with a practiced ease.

When the old horse began to slow on the incline to the schoolhouse, Bill dismounted and led him on foot; puffing his way to the top of the hill and securing Husker to a wooden post in front of the schoolhouse. He wiped his brow, smoothed down his hair and waistcoat and straightened to gleaming silver Sheriff's badge that embellished his chest; he always like to make sure he was looking his best before he saw Laura.

From the sound of her voice floating out the open window, class was still in progress, so he resigned himself to what he knew would only be a short wait considering it was almost time for the children to eat their lunches and play before the next round of lessons began. Bill had no idea how Laura handled the sometimes unruly children day to day, he knew from her stories that keeping the focus of a group of children whose ages ranged from as young as six to as old as fifteen was like herding cats, and he gave her all the more respect for it; after all, being the sole schoolmarm of the community was no mean feat.

Eventually he heard the distinctive sound of chairs being scraped across the floor in the children's haste to leave the building as soon as possible, and if Bill thought about it, he wanted them to leave as soon as possible as well. As they all scrambled over each other in an attempt to get out the door, Bill smirked and placed his hands on his waste in an intimidating manner, the action enough to calm the torrent of small children. Most of them meekly tiptoed past him, some of them staring at him and his badge with awe, but a bold few braved a 'hello' or 'good afternoon Sheriff' before disappearing to join their friends.

Bill walked quietly into the one-room schoolhouse and silently set his hat on one of the rusty hooks they used for coats. Laura had her back to him, giving him the opportunity to admire her without her noticing; the gleam of the sun through the windows setting off the copper tones of her hair and highlighting the curves of her shape gave him just a few remainders of why he loved her.

His examination of her was short lived, however, when she broke the silence, "Good afternoon, Sheriff." He could hear her smile in her voice even though he couldn't see it. He still hadn't found out how she always seemed to know when he was there. When she turned to face him his heart clenched in a familiar fashion, one he had come to associate with her presence.

She had smears of chalk across one cheek, her usually pale skin flushed from the heat and her long, unruly hair was curling every which way, but to him, she had never looked more beautiful. A detail he made sure to remind her of every chance he got.

Laura smiled that dazzling smile of hers and dusted her hands together in an attempt to clear them of any leftover chalk. Once she was sure her hands were relatively clean again, she stepped closer to him and placed one hand over his heart, leaning in to capture his lips in an all to brief kiss for his liking, but he knew that if their courtship were to become public knowledge, she would bear the brunt of the negative opinions. He would never understand why it was so important to the townsfolk that their children be taught by a single woman, but according to what Laura had told him, it was the same in other towns she had lived in, including her childhood hometown, it just wasn't socially acceptable for the schoolmarm to be anything other than a prim and proper spinster.

He reached and lightly brushed a stray curl away from her eyes and resting his hand briefly against her cheek, smiling when she leaned into his touch. When she removed her hand from his chest he didn't care that she had left chalky fingerprints on his shirt, they were directly over his heart, exactly where she had left traces of herself throughout their, so-far, brief courtship.

"How are you, Laura?" he asked her as she started to move around the small room collecting the small chalkboards the children used.

"Oh I'm just fine thank you." She lifted her head to smile at him and started cleaning off the larger chalkboard at the front of the class with a rag, "Mayor Adar has been relentless with his advances," she grinned when she heard Bill growl, "but don't worry, I'm sure I have made it quite clear that I am neither available nor interested."

Bill grunted and perched himself on the edge of a desk, "It's not you I'm worried about." Laura chuckled quietly and smoothed down the folds of her long skirt before she moved to stand beside him, not close enough to draw suspicion if any of the children came back early but close enough to be a reassuring presence.

"Well, I can assure you that you needn't worry about him either." She grasped his hand in hers and gave him an imploring look, silently asking him trust that Adar would not be a problem. She squeezed his hand lightly and laughed when her stomach protested loudly to the absence of food.

Bill rumbled a laugh with her and stood, running his hand down her arm, "How about I take you down to the café and we remedy that?" Laura nodded her agreement and smiled when he held an arm out to her. She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and sighed as he walked with her out onto the dusty hilltop.


	2. Chapter 2

Bill and Laura walked slowly down the hill from the schoolhouse towards the town in a companionable silence, Laura's fingers tucked into the crook of his elbow and Bill's free hand holding onto Husker's reins as the old horse lumbered down behind them. Bill had suggested that Laura ride Husker, her heeled boots not being the best footwear for navigating a relatively steep hill littered with loose stones and dirt that gave way beneath their feet with the lightest of touches. Laura had declined the offer, stating that she made the climb every day and was more than capable of taking care of herself. Bill had learned very early on in their relationship that she was stubborn as a mule and it was pointless arguing with her.

The local café they were making their way to wasn't even really a café; an older couple whose four children had long left the nest owned the small plot of land that now held a small outdoor seating area. After the children had left to pursue their own ventures, the lonely couple had taken on the task of making sure that everybody in the community was well fed after Sunday church services. This undertaking had then subtly expanded when the couple began making more than enough food for themselves and sending out leftovers to anyone who they felt needed it, often taking people in for lunch and supper. Of course in the beginning, when people began offering payment for their meals they were refused, the enjoyment of their company being payment enough. It was only after the Reverend convinced the couple that people didn't like to take advantage of their kindness that they began to accept the money that they were offered. Nobody was ever turned away, and thus they had become the de facto eatery for weary travellers and anybody else who felt in need of a good home cooked meal and pleasant company.

Bill gently guided Laura in the direction of the small stable behind the jailhouse so that he could return Husker. She talked quietly to the animal and petted his flank as Bill removed the saddle and bridle, returning them to their place in the stable. He smiled as she led the horse into his stall and slowly lowered the bar to shut him in, all the while telling him what a good boy he was.

"You're good with horses." He said as Husker nuzzled his nose into her palm.

Laura looked over her shoulder, a small wistful smile on her lips, "My father was a cattle rancher," she paused and turned back to Husker, "He taught me how to ride, how to behave around the beasts. Sometimes he let me help him on the drives."

Bill grinned, imagining a young, redheaded firecracker galloping around the prairie with her lariat, corralling cattle that were at least twice her size. The image quickly faded, however, when he recognised the sadness in her voice. She had never told him what had happened to her family, instead preferring to lock away the pain that came with the memory deep inside her. He had never pushed her to share her grief with him, knowing that she would tell him when she was good and ready, but also knowing that some things were too painful talk about openly, and that Laura was not a woman who suffered other people feeling pity for her.

When she looked at him again, he gave her a small understanding smile, holding his arm out for her to take. The small gesture was enough to restore to bright smile to Laura's lips. As they stepped into the main street they were greeted with curious gazes and less than subtle whispers, a common occurrence which had began long before their courtship had. Residents of a small town such as Colonial Fall's always had an ear to the ground for the latest gossip and the problem with everybody knowing everybody else was that the rumour mill was always running full tilt. Their friendship had had the effect of whipping up the locals into a frenzy of speculation and conjecture, most of which Bill and Laura had both found amusing.

"How is Lee doing these days?" Laura asked cautiously. Ever since Bill's eldest son had given up on helping his father keep the peace in Colonial Fall's in favour of pursuing a career as a lawyer in one of the bigger cities, an endeavour Bill thought to be idealistic, Bill had become somewhat guarded and temperamental when his son was mentioned, a habit Laura was hoping to break him of knowing how much he loved his son.

She frowned when he made a small sound of distaste and turned his face away from her, "I received a letter from him about a week ago. He says he's coming to visit on the next stagecoach." Laura squeezed his arm lightly and smiled warmly when he glanced at her.

"That's wonderful, Bill. I know how much you've missed having him around." Bill grunted in response and she frowned at him again, "Don't give me that, you know it's true, and besides, you said it yourself that Lee was always more interested in becoming a lawyer than a lawman." She felt him shrug and resigned herself to that being the closest she was going to get in the way of an admission of agreement from him.

When they reached the café they were greeted with a small wave from Mrs. Tucker, a frail looking old woman wearing a dress that was too large and her long grey hair tucked up underneath her bonnet. She gestured to an empty table and scuttled off to fetch a pitcher of cold water and whatever it was she had cooked that morning. Bill held out Laura's chair for her and waited until she was fully seated before he sat opposite her, both for the purpose of maintaining an air of plausible deniability about their relationship and he wanted to be able to see her smile.

They had barely taken a bite of the pie they had been given when they were interrupted by a small cough. Bill's head whipped round to send a withering glare at the small boy who looked as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Laura smiled at him, immediately recognising him as one of her students who often helped his father run messages and beckoned him closer.

When he didn't speak, Laura pulled him closer and whispered encouragingly in his ear. The boy nodded and smiled weakly at Bill, "M-mr. Sheriff, M-mayor Adar wants t-to see you." He stuttered, glancing at Laura to see her smiling her approval.

Bill gave an annoyed huff but softened his intimidating gaze and nodded at the boy. Laura straightened the boy's flyaway hair, "Thank you, Jason. Now, why don't you go get yourself something to eat and I'll see you for afternoon lessons."

Jason grinned widely at her, showing off a missing tooth and momentarily forgetting his nervousness, "Yes Miss Laura." His grin turned sheepish as he faced Bill again, "Bye, Mr. Sheriff, sir." He said quickly before he scampered away.

Bill chuckled and ate another quick bite of his pie before setting his plate aside and smiling apologetically at Laura, "I'm sorry, Laura, but it seems I've been summoned."

Laura nodded and leaned across the table to wipe his mouth with her napkin, "I understand. We wouldn't want you to end up inside one of your own cells for disobeying the mayor now, would we?" Bill chuckled and shook his head, reaching into the breast pocket of his waistcoat to pull out some money for Mrs. Tucker. "Why don't you come to the homestead for supper tonight?" she asked needlessly, she already knew he would be there.

"Of course, I'll try not to be too late."

Laura smiled coyly and set her own plate aside, "I'll have it ready."

Bill smirked and stood, pulling his hat on in the process and mindful of the sets of curious eyes watching dipped his head cordially, "Ma'am."

Laura sat for a moment and watched him leave, his stride confident as he made his way towards the town hall. She waited until he was out of sight before she began to make her way back up to the schoolhouse. It was a little early for the children to be returning yet, but at least she could begin to prepare for the next set of lessons.

When Bill arrived at the town hall a young voluptuous brunette who could have easily passed as one of Baltar's whores greeted him. Bill assumed she was acting as Adar's secretary, but why Adar required the aid of a secretary was beyond him. If rumours were to be believed, the good Mayor had most likely hired her for more than her calendar organising skills.

She smiled dizzily at him when he removed his hat and nodded at her, obviously she was missing a few brain cells, which gave more credibility to his theory of Adar's motives for hiring her. Before she could tell him that the Mayor would be ready for him in a few minutes, he strode past her and pushed his way through the closed door behind her, passively demonstrating his lack of respect for the residing town mayor.

Adar was stood staring out of the window in the corner of the room. From what Bill could see of his face, something was weighing heavily on his mind, and if it was enough for him to summon the sheriff in for a meeting, it had to be bad. The uneasy feeling that had been niggling at the back of Bill's mind all day until he had been distracted by Laura's presence came back in full force.

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Mayor?" he asked gruffly, holding his hands behind his back and keeping his stance straight and professional.

Adar made a small sound of acknowledgment but didn't turn to face Bill, "I received a wire with some rather disturbing news, Mr. Adama."

Bill frowned and stepped closer to the mayor, "Oh?"

Adar finally turned and looked at Bill, "Mmm, the folks down in Dogsville have reportedly seen Thomas Zarek and his posse of bandits not far from there." Bill growled low in his throat and Adar smiled thinly, "Yes, apparently the mayor of Dogsville thought it appropriate to forewarn us."

"Dangnabbit!" Adar arched an eyebrow at Bill but said nothing, "Don't suppose they knew where theys was headed?" he asked.

Adar shook his head and walked over to an old table, taking a small wooden box off the surface and removing a cigar and offering one to Bill, who politely refused. "No, if brains were dynamite they wouldn't have enough to blow their noses down there." Adar replied bitterly. Despite the seriousness of the meeting, Bill had to repress urge to laugh.

"Well sir, there ain't much I can do now. Zarek's not come into this territory yet and even if he does he's untouchable unless he crosses the law again." Bill smoothed his hair back and shifted his feet, "I'll be sure to keep my eyes peeled and with your approval sir, I'll deputise Thrace for the meantime."

Adar nodded absently and waved his hand in Bill's direction before turning to light his cigar, effectively dismissing him. Bill glared at Adar's turned back for a few long seconds before making his way out of the room, passing the dizzy looking brunette who gave him another flirtatious smile, curling a stray lock of hair around her fingers. Bill rolled his eyes and stepped out into the blazing sun, shielding his eyes with his hand as he looked up and down the main street.

When he made it back to the jailhouse he saw that Saul was curled up in one of the bunks, snoring contentedly as he slept off the after-effects of his latest bender. After collecting his water canteen and checking to make sure that it was full, Bill went round back to saddle up Husker returned his revolver to his side-holster.

If he were to deputise Thrace, he would first need to find her. Leading Husker out into the main street, Bill thought about where he was most likely to find the young, hotheaded gunslinger. Hauling himself onto the back of his mount, he headed out into the open prairie, hoping that his hunch would be correct and that she would be practicing her already perfect aim down by Wolf Creek.

It was a long ride, taking nearly an hour and seemingly longer under the heat of the sun before he reached the creek, pleased when he heard the distinctive crack of the two guns that Kara Thrace liked to use. When he was within shouting distance, he waited until she had finished emptying her guns into a bullet-ridden tree trunk before he called out to her, "Wha'd'ya hear Thrace?"

The young woman spun on her heel and pulled the bandanna covering the lower half of her face down to her neck and grinned at him, "Nothin' but the rain." How she could wear full buckskins in this heat Bill would never know.

"I've got a job for ya." He told her. Kara gave him a cocky smile and spun her revolvers twice before depositing them back into the holsters at her hips.

"I'm all ears."


	3. Chapter 3

_As promised, I come bearing updates. I'm really sorry for the delay, RL and other fics caught up with me and I'm finding this particular fic really hard to write (don't ask me why). Anyway, thanks VioletJedi for reviewing :) _

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><p>Bill watched as Kara cantered off into the distance. It had only taken him a short while to tell her about the situation and she had agreed to become a temporary deputy before he even had the chance to properly offer her the position. Her first task was to visit the homesteads in the more remote areas that surrounded Colonial Falls. As they were technically a part of his jurisdiction as Sheriff in this part of the territory, it was his responsibility to ensure the safety of the people who lived there. However, as it was only Saul and himself that made up the law in those parts, the task could sometimes be considered, for lack of a better word, daunting.<p>

It was growing dark by the time he got back to the town. Riding slowly down the main street he hoped that nothing out of the ordinary had happened while he had been away, with Saul being in the condition Bill had left him in, it could have been disastrous if something _had_ happened. Passing by the jailhouse, he could see that it was now empty and locked up, Saul presumably gone home to dwell more on Ellen's most recent betrayal.

He continued riding straight through Colonial Falls until he had reached the town limits then veered off down a familiar beaten path that led to Laura's homestead. When she had first moved to Colonial Falls to fill the position of schoolmarm, she had decided to live outside of the actual town, preferring the tranquillity that came with her chosen seclusion than the hustle and bustle of the town. He had come to enjoy the isolation when he visited her; there was never any chance of being interrupted by the townsfolk for the mundane incidents he was often called to, and it had become one of the only places where he began to really feel like himself.

As he neared the small, modest homestead, he could see the flickering glow of candles and the kerosene lamps that were strategically placed throughout her home. If he knew Laura, she had already fixed supper and was now sat on the front porch waiting for him to arrive.

He chuckled to himself when he was close enough to the homestead to realise that he was right. She was wrapped up in a blanket, despite the warmth of the day remaining in the air, and sat with her legs curled underneath her body as she leant against on of the pillars on the porch. Urging Husker into a brisk trot, Bill cleared the last hundred metres just as Laura was pulling herself to her feet, a smile playing across her lips.

Stopping just short of the porch step, Bill slid easily out of the saddle, landing with a soft thud on the loose prairie dirt. Laura stepped down to him and took Husker's reins, gently pulling him away from Bill and leading him to the barn just behind the homestead. Bill followed her with a smile on his face and watched with fascination as she tended to his horse.

Once she had shut the horse safely into the empty stall beside her mare's stall, she turned to face him, instantly recognising the stress that he tried in vain to keep carefully hidden from her. Stepping towards him, she pressed her hand tenderly against his cheek, letting her fingers lightly trace the stubble that formed over the day, "What's wrong?"

He leant into her touch and shook his head, "After we eat."

Laura nodded her understanding and wrapped her hand around his arm. He smiled at her and walked with her out of the barn and slowly around to the front of the homestead, collecting the blanket she had abandoned on the porch as they went through the door. She pushed him towards one of the chairs that surrounded a small wooden table in the corner of the room and glared at him until he relented and sank into it with a grunt.

Laura danced gracefully around the small kitchen area of her home, fetching cutlery and tableware and setting the in front of Bill, glaring at him again when he tried to move to help her. Grabbing a thick cloth, she went over to the stove and pulled out the simple stew she had prepared while she had waited for Bill to arrive. She set it on the table in front of him before going back to collect a loaf of bread to have with it.

Sitting opposite him, she waited for him to say Grace before ladling some stew into his bowl and passing it over to him, he in turn cut off some bread and passed it to her in a practiced ritual of domesticity. They ate in silence for the most part, Laura occasionally filling him in on the events that took place at the schoolhouse after he had been summoned to visit the mayor. He listened with interest, but she could tell that something was on his mind, something potentially big.

Once they had finished, she allowed Bill to help her clear up before she placed her hands on her hips and arched an expectant eyebrow at him, "So, are you going to tell me what happened at the mayor's?"

Bill sighed and went to lean against the table while Laura sat in the chair closest to him, "The mayor wanted to warn me that Tom Zarek and his gang of miscreants were spotted by the people of Dogsville not far from here."

Laura frowned and knitted her hands together in her lap, "Do they have any idea what he's doing?"

Bill shook his head, "Not as far as I know. I've asked Kara be a temporary deputy and help me keep an eye on things, but until we can find out more, there's not much I can do."

"Do you think we should ask for a town meeting? Maybe you could convince more people to be deputised temporarily until we know what's happening." Laura suggested.

Bill hid a grimace. He had never liked dealing with the town council; he found them to be too whiney and demanding, their presence around him always bringing out his less than diplomatic side and making him abnormally short-tempered. Laura, on the other hand, was much more controlled and found dealing with the council no more difficult than dealing with a classroom of unruly children, something she had had more than enough experience with.

The smirk on Laura's face told him he had been unsuccessful at hiding his disgust at the idea, and he hated to admit that it would actually be a good idea. "I'll go talk to Adar in the morning, see if he'll be willing to call a meeting." He grunted reluctantly.

Laura nodded and lightly rubbed his knee, "That's good. We both know you can't protect this town properly with just you and Saul, you need help." Bill sighed and rubbed his hand across his face. "If you can get Cantrell on your side the other council members will fall in line." She offered.

"Okay. You wanna do this for me?" he grinned at her.

She raised an amused eyebrow and smirked, "I'm not getting involved." Bill chuckled and pushed himself away from the table. Laura stood and went to straighten his shirt and waistcoat, her fingers brushing lightly over the shiny silver Sheriff's star adorning his chest.

She watched from the comfort of her porch as he led Husker back down the beaten path towards town. It took less than one hundred metres for her to lose sight of him in the dark, and although she worried about the dangers of Bill riding alone at night, she trusted the horse to make sure his master got home safe. She waited a few minutes more before going back inside and clearing away the rest of their meal, her mind occupied by what Bill had told her.

She took extra care to make sure the door to the homestead was shut and locked tight that night before wrapping herself up in her blanket and murmuring an extra prayer to help ease her mind.

The first thing Bill did when he reached the town was head straight back to the jailhouse. Knowing full well that it was unlikely that he would be able to catch much sleep, he saw that Husker was comfortably in his stall before going to sit at his desk and reading through messages and papers that had piled up over the week. He even made a note in his journal of the day's events for future reference.

As he wrote in the journal, he contemplated why Thomas Zarek would risk returning to this part of the territory. Since his exile from the town some twenty years earlier, no one had seen hide nor hair of him, only hearing the occasional tale of his antics, including one particular story involving a distant town hall and some dynamite that had set the entire population of Colonial Falls on edge for weeks.

When his head began to nod, he pulled his pocket watch out and flipped open the lid. He wasn't the least bit surprised to see that it was nearly 3am. Sighing heavily, he closed the journal and stacked all the loose papers on the desk into one reasonably neat pile. He would have to go through them again in the morning with a clear head to check he hadn't missed anything important, but for now, he was more interested in crawling into one of the cell bunks, regardless of how uncomfortable they might be.

Folding himself onto one of the bunks, he tucked the thin blanket close around himself and closed his eyes. Falling asleep slowly to the sounds of coyotes howling in the distance.

He cursed to himself when the bright morning sun burned his eyes. Squeezing them shut against the onslaught on his corneas, he rolled out of the bunk, landing with an unceremonious thud on the floor. Rubbing the sleep out his eyes, he hauled himself to his feet and stumbled over to the bowl and jug in the corner, pouring the remainder of the previous day's water from the jug into the bowl, before scooping a handful out and splashing it across his face, forgoing the use of the rag he usually used.

The feeling of the night-cooled water on his skin shocked him fully awake, although it did little to refresh him, not that he could feel refreshed while wearing yesterday's crumpled, prairie dust covered clothes. Glancing in the cracked mirror on the wall, he could see the dark shadow of morning stubble gracing the lower half of his face. He frowned when he saw that there was also prairie dust caked into patches of his hair.

After doing his best to finger-comb the dust out, he shrugged at the condition of his clothes, rationalising that changing into cleaner clothes would be pointless as they would only end up in the same condition as the ones as he was already wearing. And besides, he was only going to see the mayor.

Trudging out of jailhouse, he made his way down the main street, lifting a hand to Saul in greeting, who was making his way to begin morning rounds. Bill smiled lightly to himself; his friend was looking better than he had been when he had last seen him.

When he arrived at the town hall the dizzy, brunette secretary didn't greet him like he had been expecting. Either it was too early for her, or Adar had already had enough of his latest toy. Chuckling to himself, Bill slipped past her desk and pushed his way into Adar's office.

The mayor was slumped in his over-large, plush chair and had his head pressed firmly against the wooden surface of his desk. As Bill took in his appearance, it was clear from the fact that he was also wearing yesterday's clothes that he had been there all night.

It was also clear, from the copious amounts of red-stained papers covering the desk, that the mayor was dead.


End file.
